No one knew where memory began.
Not really.
Some believed it was born in the first thought.
Others said it came with the first heartbreak.
But Amaris now knew better.
It began in the Silence.
---
The stars led them east — farther than any map allowed.
There were no paths.
No names.
Only cold, dry wind that whispered things she didn’t know she knew.
Tavian walked beside her, silent but alert.
Neither of them spoke.
Until the ground turned to glass.
A massive, endless field — smooth, black, reflective.
No sky above.
Only their own reflections looking back.
> “What is this?” Tavian murmured.
> “The Echo Field,” Amaris replied, as if the words had always been in her mouth.
“The place where the first memory was made… and where it was stolen.”
---
Suddenly, the glass rippled beneath their feet.
And the reflections changed.
Not copies — alternates.
Versions of themselves in different timelines.
Tavian as a soldier lost in war.
Amaris as a healer, burning in a temple.
Them, as children, running through a forest that never existed.
> “This is what we could’ve been,” she said.
> “Or what we were before someone rewrote us.”
And then they saw her.
In the center of the field.
A girl standing still, hands folded, dress made of woven starlight.
> Lyra.
---
Amaris ran to her.
But the closer she got, the farther Lyra drifted.
Like she was trapped in a ripple — always one step away.
> “I remember you!” Amaris cried out. “I remember everything now!”
Lyra turned her head.
Tears glimmered in her eyes.
But she didn’t speak.
> Tavian caught up. “Why won’t she talk?”
Then a voice, ancient and cold, cut through the stillness:
> “Because she is the Origin.”
They turned.
Behind them stood a figure draped in silver chains.
Eyes like smoke.
Hands burning with silence.
> “She was the first. The seed. The link between hearts. So we buried her.”
> “Who are you?” Tavian growled.
> “I am the Architect of Forgetting.”
---
The wind froze.
Even the stars stopped flickering.
> “We didn’t erase to punish,” the Architect continued. “We erased to control.
When people remember too much… they resist. They hope. They love.”
He looked at Amaris.
> “You were never supposed to find her.”
> “I didn’t,” she said. “She found me.”
She turned back to Lyra.
This time, when she reached forward, Lyra didn’t drift.
She stepped into her arms.
And the world breathed.
---
Light cracked across the Echo Field.
The alternate versions began to blur — merging, screaming, singing.
Amaris felt everything.
Every lifetime.
Every choice.
Every love she had been denied.
And Lyra whispered in her ear:
> “Now remember for all of them.”
---
The Architect raised his hand to strike—
But Tavian was faster.
He stepped in front of Amaris and threw the memory sigil from his chest into the sky.
It exploded in a ring of fire and time.
The field split.
The Architect screamed.
And memory — not just of Lyra, but of everyone — returned to the world.
---
They stood in the center of silence no longer.
Only song.
Only connection.
Only truth.
And Amaris smiled, holding Lyra’s hand.
> “It’s time we rewrite the ending.”
YOU ARE READING
memory core
Fantasy> ❝Memories don't die... They just hide where no one dares to look.❞ Mira thought she was just a normal girl. Until she woke up in a strange room, with a name that wasn't hers and a heart that remembered something... or someone... else. There is som...
